New Coke was one of the biggest marketing flops in the history of American capitalism. Coca-Cola execs actually once thought their wildly devoted consumers would enjoy a completely altered recipe in lieu of their favorite carbonated drink. April 1985 marked the introduction of New Coke and the start of public outcry amongst American consumers. One organization, the Old Cola Drinkers of America, even filed a class-action lawsuit against the company. Coke drinkers bought cases of the old Coke from abroad where New Coke hadn’t yet appeared; basements filled with the then obsolete product. Perhaps I’m exaggerating, but if I had to guess, the scene would have been quite similar to the worldwide frenzy preceding Y2K and its dreaded “00” computer date entry.
But just as the year 2000 turned out to be as apocalyptic as the year 1563, so New Coke was barely a threat to the American public. With tail between its legs, Coca-Cola Inc. quickly reverted back to its original recipe, renamed Coca-Cola Classic, and consumers happily forgot the ordeal as they chugged gallons of the syrupy, bubbly elixir.
I got none of this information from my visit to the Coca-Cola Factory in Atlanta this summer.
The New Coke exhibit was squished between other cramped displays of red Coca-Cola kitsch, making it hardly noticeable to the non-Wikipedia-surfing patron. Everything in the soda mecca was red, red, red, starting with the giant rotating Coke globe at the entrance. Each gallery featured display case after display case of Coke memorabilia dating back to the drink’s birth in 1886. My fellow factory patrons consisted primarily of nuclear families with youngish children (I’m not a fair judge of age in others). While the children were busy scampering up and around the giant plastic polar bear, I meandered around reading about innovative canning techniques, waiting for my turn with the bear.
The galleries were supposedly themed (ex. “The Pause That Refreshes” and “The Real Thing”), but I lost track of their delineations because they all housed the same thing: Coke stuff. At the first gallery, I thought I was taking a picture of a fake bottling machine, but it was actually a video. I think I still have it if you want to see. I also saw a poster featuring Coke in the hands of curly-haired blondes in ruffly garden party frocks. I stood in a nostalgic soda fountain set complete with costumed soda jerk giving demonstrations on how to make Coke with syrup and seltzer. The more I saw, the stronger the marketing message was: “Hello, we’re Coca-Cola and we’re the epitome of American goodness.”
A welcome respite from the cluttered galleries was a theater playing every Coca-Cola commercial ever. This part was fun. The screening not only made me crave Coke, but it was also a blast from the past as I remembered commercials from my childhood. The screening provided a comprehensive (and dare I say accurate?) portrayal of American consumerism throughout the years. Do you remember when women wore elbow-length gloves and men were chivalrous? I don’t, but having seen the commercial, I can pretend I do. Or how about the bellbottoms of the 70s and the teased, crimpy hair of the 80s? Coke was there, forever playing its part in the heart of American culture.
Even better than the commercials was the taste-testing - two whole rooms of it. One of them had the norms like Coke, Diet Coke and Sprite (after all the brainwashing from the theater, this Coke tasted like magic.) The second room had tastings of sodas from all over the world, including ginger and rutabega flavored ones. I had all of them (I lost count after twenty) and proceeded to burp my way to the gift store. There, I agonized over and finally decided to buy a wall-mounted bottle opener with the Coca-Cola trademark emblazoned across it. Of course, I will put this to good use opening vast quantities of .. Coke bottles.
I have probably consumed hundreds, if not thousands, of Coke products. Who hasn’t? The fact is, Coke is everywhere and not drinking it would be a horrible travesty. Forget the sugars per serving - you only live once, right? Bottoms up!
Oh yes, and one more thing: Gay Mullins, founder of Old Cola Drinkers of America, took two blind taste tests between old and New Coke. One time, he failed to distinguish the two. The other, he expressed a preference for New Coke. Figures.
If I had to listen to only one musician for the rest of my life, Ted Leo would win hands down any day. I fell in love with this New Jersey native long ago, and his performance at the 2006 Seaport Music Festival was no exception. Although the crowd was initially lifeless, from either the heavy weather or the two opening groups which I happened to miss, it soon picked up its energy as Ted and his Pharmacists began their rockin’ set with one of my all time favorites: Little Dawn, quickly followed by another classic: Where Have All The Rude Boys Gone? Come to think of it, Dear Ted filled the night with all my favorites plus many new and exciting songs that I had never heard before. His excellent song writing ability was only surpassed by his witty banter. The night’s topics ranged from a serious promotion of the September 17th march “Number the Dead,” to commentary on the brilliance of the Schwarzenegger-DeVito collaboration for the movie TWINS. He even shouted out to the audience for requests, producing the following dialogue, of which only Ted’s part is recorded (yes I was taking notes): “so what do you want to hear? James Brown? You wanna hear James Brown? I’m not gonna stand up here and disrespect the memory of James Brown…wait I just caught that…” My favorite part of the evening occurred during “Timorous Me” as the audience broke out in powerfully unified clapping during Ted’s Irish jig-like guitar solo. That part gets me every time.
